


Ghost Out Of His Grave

by LovestuckPrince



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dadza, Dimension Travel, Dream Smp, Family Feels, Found Family, Gen, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, More character tags as well, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unethical Experimentation, War, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), more tags will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovestuckPrince/pseuds/LovestuckPrince
Summary: The man was blocking the exit of the alleyway.As Tommy watched, he swayed slightly, like he was struggling to stay on his feet. A pair of eyes, intent, were focused entirely on him, and despite the bloodied and dazed appearance, the focus and shine in those eyes made it clear that he was entirely conscious. There was something there, however - something just a little bit unhinged.Still, Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid. He couldn’t remember a single instance of meeting this stranger before, yet something about him was so familiar.“Tommy,” the man finally spoke, his voice slightly cracked. He took a step forward, close enough that Tommy could actually see the blood that stained the front of his shirt, where one hand was still pressed. Before Tommy could react, or reply, or do anything, the man collapsed at his feet, unconscious.-L’Manberg, Schlatt, Pogtopia - Tommy had no idea what any of these words could mean, no matter how many times ‘Wilbur Soot’ repeated them over and over, in growing panic. The decision to bring this bloody stranger into his house was feeling more rash by the minute.
Relationships: Sleepy Bois Inc - Relationship, Technoblade & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 50
Kudos: 247
Collections: Chossi's fic reccomendations for the soul





	1. All lit up and I start to smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tommy,” the man finally spoke, his voice slightly cracked. He took a step forward, close enough that Tommy could actually see the blood that stained the front of his shirt, where one hand was still pressed. Before Tommy could react, or reply, or do anything, the man collapsed at his feet, unconscious. 
> 
> -
> 
> Tommy finds an injured man in an alleyway that recognizes him, and like any logical person would, decides to take him home.

A universal truth that all teenagers could agree on, was that school sucked, and Tommy was no exception to that general belief. Even now, well past the time that the universe decided to grow dark, Tommy stood in line at a store around the corner from his cramped apartment, impatiently fiddling with the basket of snacks he held in one hand and a crumpled note in his other. He had a test the next day and had been struggling to focus on his studies over the rumbling hunger in his stomach.    
  
He had food in the apartment, but it was mostly instant noodles and other cheap food a student living with just one roommate could afford. Not that the snacks weren’t just as shitty and cheap, but at least it would be something new, and maybe some sugar would help him cheer up ever so slightly when faced with the work he had left to do. Tubbo, his roommate, had offered to come with him, but Tommy knew Tubbo needed to focus on his own school work just as much as he did, and had declined the offer.

The line finally inched forwards and Tommy sighed, stepping up to the cashier. He made his transaction quickly, handing over the required notes and pocketing the change as his items were bagged. Grabbing the bag with his now free hand, Tommy nodded thanks towards the teenager working at the counter. She seemed just as tired as he felt, a customer service smile forced onto her face.

As he left the store, he pulled out his phone with his other hand, keeping half his attention focused on the roads so he wouldn’t walk straight into traffic.

_ Tommy: On my way back now with sustenance, bitch _ _  
_ _ Tubbo: Okay I’m judt working on sone of the math _ _  
_ _ Tubbo: Do you kno what time youl get here _ _  
_ _ Tommy: Ten minutes tops _

As he paused, waiting to cross a road, Tommy stuck his phone back into his pocket, glancing upwards at the night sky. It was a nice night out, honestly, a gentle breeze present to keep the air from being too warm against his skin. The streets weren’t too busy either, keeping the world quiet around him. Quiet wasn’t really a word used around Tommy often - he had a loud and brash personality, and never hesitated to shout his own opinion loudly and with enthusiasm - but it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate this, at least a bit.

As the light changed, Tommy quickly crossed the street, tearing his gaze away from the sky above. As he walked forward, it was the unique silence of this particular night that made the slightly pained noise from the alleyway audible as he passed by it. Any other night, the cars would have been just a little bit too loud, or some chatter from some passing strangers would have overridden the noise, but on this one, single night -

His footsteps faltered, and then stopped entirely. 

On this night, fate pushed him to a different direction. Tommy glanced towards the entrance towards the alleyway, a frown on his face. He wasn’t stupid enough to wander into an alleyway when it was this dark out, no matter what Tubbo or his parents might claim about how reckless and rash he acted. Still, moving on without even a thought felt wrong, not when someone could be hurt or bleeding out, or who the fuck knows what else.

His hand drifted towards his pocket again, as he tried to decide if he should call the police when there was another pained hiss, and the sound of someone saying something under their breath. No matter how quiet the voice was, distant and hardly raised, something about it struck Tommy as weirdly familiar, and for some reason, all of his reluctance was gone, just like that. Maybe Tubbo and his parents actually were right, he considered, taking a few hesitant steps into the alleyway. He could be reckless, and rash, at the worst of times.   
  
“Hello?” he called out. As soon as he spoke, the alleyway went entirely silent, as if he had spooked whoever was there. Even after waiting for a few seconds, there was no reply, and Tommy sighed, taking in a deep breath and raising his voice. “Listen, I’m a big man, so don’t fucking try anything funny,” he warned, taking another careful step forward, scanning for anyone who could be hurt, sitting on the ground, or standing further back. The alleyway was dark and shadowed, and it made it hard to see far. “Do you want me to call the police?”   
  
Still, there was no reply. Tommy frowned harder, hand shifting towards his pocket again. Something was drawing him into the alleyway deeper though, like a hand on his back pushing him forwards. There was still something about the voice he heard that was sitting weirdly in the back of his mind, and despite the insanity of his actions, Tommy couldn’t bring himself to stop.   
  
There was a noise behind him, and Tommy swung around quickly.   
  
Somehow, the stranger had gotten behind him. Tommy had no idea how he had done so - it wasn’t a big alley by any means, and Tommy hadn’t even heard them move, let alone move entirely around him. He still couldn’t make out the dark figure very well. They were leaning against the wall, one hand pressed against it as if keeping themselves steady, and the other pressed up against their chest. They seemed to be wearing some type of long trench coat as well, but from what Tommy could see the edges looked tattered, well worn, and falling apart.   
  
Tommy took a small step forward, and he could see slightly better. It seemed to be a man, and the idea that he seemed tattered had struck close to the truth. He seemed altogether too skinny, too weak, and something in Tommy shifted with anxiety at the sight. There was something stained on his coat, dark and… red? Blood? “Are you okay?” he spoke without thinking, the words sounding much too concerned.    
  
He could almost hear Tubbo’s voice in his head, concerned and panicked, yelling at Tommy to get out of there. In any other situation, Tommy would agree in a heartbeat, but he still felt that strange hand at his back, and a confusing lack of fear.

He noticed something, then, that he hadn’t before. The man was blocking the exit of the alleyway.

As Tommy watched, he swayed slightly, like he was struggling to stay on his feet. A pair of eyes, intent, were focused entirely on him, and despite the bloodied and dazed appearance, the focus and shine in those eyes made it clear that he was entirely conscious. There was something there, however - something just a little bit unhinged.

Still, Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid. He couldn’t remember a single instance of meeting this stranger before, yet something about him was so familiar. 

“Tommy,” the man finally spoke, his voice slightly cracked. He took a step forward, close enough that Tommy could actually see the blood that stained the front of his shirt, where one hand was still pressed. Before Tommy could react, or reply, or do anything, the man collapsed at his feet, unconscious. 

And before he even knew what he was doing, Tommy was making the decision to bring this stranger home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short, but think of it as an introduction! I need to plan a general outline for this story still, and chapters will quickly get longer. :)


	2. Take my teeth, tear through my cheeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo had managed to get the fabric away and off the injury, revealing a deep slash in homeless bastards' flesh. It looked like some sort of blade had cut into him, the cut smooth around the edges and longer than Tommy had imagined it would be. A knife wound, maybe? It wasn’t bleeding too badly anymore, but Tommy grabbed some clean gauze and applied pressure anyways, soaking up some still oozing blood for a minute.
> 
> -
> 
> Tommy and Tubbo take the injured stranger home and do their best to deal with his injuries. Both of them are starting to have some doubts about the situation.

The phone rang several times in his hand before Tubbo picked up. “Hello?” Tubbo questioned, tone slightly confused over the phone. Tommy had just said he’d be home in a few minutes, so the confusion was understandable. The situation had suddenly changed, though, in less than a moment. Tommy glanced down at the ground behind him, at the unconscious man that was still there. The reason for the change in the situation. 

“Hey, Tubbo,” Tommy replied, tone slightly awkward, speaking loudly into the phone. “Think you could put aside your math for a little and head down to that alleyway around the corner from our place?”   
  
There was a moment of silence. When Tubbo spoke again, there was an edge of panic in his voice, a hint of steel hidden under his tone. “Yeah, of course, Big T. Should I bring anyone with me?”   
  
Tommy’s mouth twitched upwards into a slight grin. Admittedly, his question was cause for concern, asking his friend to head into a dark alleyway at this time, so Tubbo’s attempt to slip him some hidden message in case he was caught in a bad situation was appreciated. If there was some drunk loser bitch holding a knife to his throat, Tommy could say something about leaving their third roommate home - a message that made no sense, so Tubbo would know that he needed help.   
  
Not that he would be stupid enough to get himself into a situation like that. He was a big man.    
  
Then again… if this stranger had been a little less injured and fainting prone, Tommy supposed it was entirely possible that’s exactly what could have happened. However, he had a feeling that a situation like that just wouldn’t have, even with a lack of proof. A feeling wasn’t really enough to risk your life over, many would claim, but Tommy believed in following his instincts. They were destined to lead him to greatness.

“No, just bring yourself. Everything’s fine,” Tommy reassured Tubbo, glancing at the man again. He still hadn’t moved, not even a little. “... Well, more or less. Could you hurry?”   
  
Tubbo’s voice was still unsure, a little confused and concerned, but Tommy could hear him moving around in the apartment. Probably pulling on a jacket or his shoes. “Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”    
  
Tommy hadn’t expected any other answer. Tubbo and Tommy met when they were much younger, meaning they had been close friends for years. They had never left each other when there was a clear need for help or assistance, and that support wasn’t a habit they were about to break any time soon. “See you soon, fucker,” Tommy grinned, hanging up before Tubbo could reply and returning his phone to his pocket.   
  
His concern for the unconscious man was like a weight in his chest, heavy and awkward. Tommy moved towards him again, crouching down next to him. He would have brought him home by himself, but Tommy wasn’t entirely confident in his ability to support the stranger all the way back to the apartment, hence the call for Tubbo. Still, Tommy reached for him, carefully moving him onto his back, checking his breathing again.

It was still steady. The man’s skin was strangely cold as if it was winter instead of the nice warm weather they had been getting. His skin was pale, too, and he was skinny as if he hadn’t had a good meal in a little while. As Tommy had already noted, his clothes were torn and tattered, well worn. Overall, he looked like he was probably homeless.

But he had known Tommy’s name, and he had stared at Tommy with such an intent, wide-eyed look. When he said Tommy’s name, he didn’t sound violent or angry either. Thinking back now, it was almost like there was some level of relief in his voice.

Hands shaking slightly, Tommy looked at the injury next. Sticky, dark blood had seeped through the man’s shirt, low on his chest. Gently, Tommy tried to peel his shirt up to get a closer look, but the shirt seemed to be stuck to whatever wound was there. He wasn’t entirely willing to force it either, not wanting to rip open the injury more and make him bleed out faster, or... however it worked. On top of that, exposing the wound in such a dirty alleyway didn’t seem like a great idea. He knew they had a first aid kit back in the apartment, so he could just wait until they got home to try and take a look at it.   
  
He could also call an ambulance. 

The second he considered the idea, it slipped away, his mind immediately coming to the decision it was a bad idea. If asked, Tommy couldn’t give a reason why. It was the same instinct that dragged him into this alleyway when he heard this man's voice, the same one that told him he had nothing to fear. An instinct that was going to lead him to trouble one day, Tommy could practically hear Tubbo complaining. 

The examination had already taken a few minutes, and Tommy glanced up at the entrance of the alleyway, biting his lip slightly. Tubbo should be here soon, hopefully. If anyone found him now, crouched over an injured man, things were doomed to quickly start going downhill. 

As if Tubbo heard him, he rounded the corner hardly a moment later, hesitating for only a second before entering the small space. “Tommy?” he called out, voice gentle.   
  
“Here.” Tommy straightened, and Tubbo spotted him, some of the tension leaving his friend's shoulders as he hurried forwards. Glancing around them, Tubbo seemed to be glad to spot no immediate danger, more of the tension escaping him as he breathed out shakingly.    
  
“What-”   
  
“Here,” Tommy said again, softer, glancing downwards.   
  
Tubbo followed his gaze. There was a second of silence, both of them looking downwards before Tubbo squeaked slightly and flinched back. “Tommy!” he gasped, sounding horrified. 

Tommy quickly looked up, eyes wide. “I know this looks really fucking bad and doesn’t make any sense, but I really think we need to take him home -”   
  
“He’s alive?” Tubbo questioned, interrupting Tommy, his tone sounding overly relieved. He crouched down next to the man now, looking a little bit frantic as he checked him over, following Tommy’s own examination. Tommy frowned slightly, watching for a second before his brain caught up with the question he had been asked.

“Of course he’s alive. I can’t really check his injury, I want to get him to the apartment first, but his breathing seems okay and I think it’s just the one injury. I would have brought him myself, of course, but I thought you might get freaked out if I suddenly showed up with some homeless bastard.”   
  
Tubbo looked up at him again. The frantic look in his eyes lessened a little, now that he wasn’t under the impression Tommy had called him over to look at a dead body. “Tommy, if he’s not hurt too bad, we can still call the police,” he said quickly, straightening, “I’m sure we can just tell them it was self-defense-”   
  
“Tubbo!” Tommy stared at his friend. “It wasn’t me who did this to him!”   
  
“...Oh.”   
  
Tommy opened his mouth and then closed it. After a second, he opened it again. “You thought I fucking murdered some homeless guy? What were you going to do, help me hide the body?”

“No! Of course not!” There was a slight flush on Tubbo’s neck, visible even in the dark alleyway, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment. “I would have said we should call the police. I still think we should call the police! Why do you want to take him home?”   
  
He was having a hard time getting over the idea that Tubbo thought he had murdered this man, but he put the thought aside for now. He had to focus on getting said man help, before he worried about anything else. “As I said, I know this looks bad and it doesn’t make much sense,” he commented again, “but I think we should take him home and help him. I don’t think he’s dangerous, but he called my name, he knew who I was.”   
  
“Big T, if he knew your name, that’s more reason to think he’s dangerous,” Tubbo pointed out, frowning. They both looked down at the stranger, eyes focused on his face this time, each of them trying to decide if they knew him from anywhere. Still, despite the feeling of familiarity, nothing came to mind.    
  
“I know,” Tommy sighed, “I know. But he’s not dangerous. I can tell, I am a great judge of character! I have a feeling it would be a bad idea to turn him in, Tubbo. Please.”   
  
Tommy didn’t tend to say please often. He didn’t like to ask for help, preferring to act independently and figure things out by himself - a big man, as he consistently claimed over and over. Acting weak in front of others just felt wrong, even though Tubbo was a bit of an exception to the rule.    
  
He could practically see his friend wavering, still hesitant about the solution Tommy was proposing. If it was just Tubbo in this situation, Tommy was sure he would call the police, and he couldn’t fault Tubbo in the slightest for that. It made the most sense, logically. It’s what a normal person would do.    
  
Tommy never claimed to be ‘normal.’   
  
“Please,” he said again.    
  
Tubbo groaned, running a hand through his hair, averting his eyes. He was clearly nervous, but he nodded anyway, giving into Tommy’s request at last. “Fine! But if he gets worse, we need to call for some sort of actual, professional, medical help, or if he wakes up and he acts violent, or crazy, or anything like that then we need to call the police. Okay?”   
  
“Okay. I’ll get his left, you get his right?” Tommy was grinning slightly as he made sure his bag of snacks was secured on his arm. Tubbo was clearly still reluctant even as he moved to the man’s other side, and they each hooked his arms around their shoulders, pulling him up between them as carefully as they could. It was much easier than Tommy thought it would be. He had noticed how skinny the man was but now that Tommy could feel his weight for himself he could definitely admit that it really was concerning.    
  
He was light enough that Tommy may not have needed the extra help at all. Not that he didn’t appreciate it, even though those words would never leave his mouth. “Got him?” Tubbo questioned, and Tommy made a noise of agreement once he was sure the homeless bastard was secure.    
  
Carefully, the two walked back out onto the street, supporting his weight while moving as quickly as they could. Hopefully, no one would stop to question them - it looked like they were supporting their drunk friend, as long as no one stopped to peer closer. It was a short walk, luckily, so they should be able to make it without running into even more trouble than they were already in.

“What happened?” Tubbo questioned. His voice low remained, not wanting to draw attention to their little group.   
  
Tommy peaked at the stranger again, at his pale face and the bleeding wound on his chest. “I just heard something from the alleyway as I passed by, and I had a pretty strong feeling I had to go check,” he settled on, knowing his explanation was a little lackluster. He didn’t have much else to offer, though. “He was conscious when I walked in, but bleeding and shit, almost following over. He just stared at me for a second, and then he said my name, and fucking fainted a second later.”   
  
“And he didn’t seem dangerous?” Tubbo clarified, still sounding doubtful.   
  
Tommy went to shrug and then stopped himself, not wanting to dislodge the man from his shoulder. “No? He didn’t stare at me like he wanted to… I don’t know, stab me or whatever the fuck weirdos do. He seemed…” Tommy paused, trailing off, trying to remember the word he had used earlier. “He seemed relieved, maybe?”    
  
“Maybe he was glad to see someone? Maybe he actually was hoping you’d call an ambulance.”   
  
“Well, maybe, but don’t forget he said my name. He knows me, somehow, and I still feel like calling an ambulance would have been the wrong call.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
The rest of the walk continued in silence, both of the teenagers trying to ensure they weren’t dragging the man's feet on the ground, or hurting him worse then he already was. When they made it to their apartment they hovered outside, glancing at each other, and then Tubbo shrugged. “I didn’t run into anyone heading out, it’s pretty late. If we do, we can just say…”   
  
“That he’s our drunk friend,” Tommy suggested, from his earlier thoughts, “our incredibly idiotic drunk friend, who forced us to drag his ass back here after getting entirely hammered. We can just… hope no one notices the blood.”   
  
“The blood,” Tubbo repeated faintly, shaking his head. His doubts were definitely becoming worse than before, but he still wasn’t backing out. “That’s an awful plan, Tommy.”   
  
“Well, do you have a better one?”

Tubbo pushed the door open slightly, which served as enough of an answer. Carefully walking in through the front doors, they headed towards the elevator. Like Tubbo had mentioned, they didn’t run into anyone on their way there, and the elevator itself was empty. It seemed luck really was on their side, tonight. As they stood waiting to get up to their floor, the man seemed to shift slightly, stirring.    
  
Tommy quickly turned to look at him, practically holding his breath. A few moments passed, and the man didn’t move again. The elevator doors opened, and Tommy hesitantly looked away, helping Tubbo get the stranger out into the hallway. It was a good sign if he was moving, right? It meant he wasn’t hurt too awfully if he was already starting to wake up a little bit.   
  
Luck carried them all the way to their apartment door, where Tommy took all of the stranger's weight so that his shorter friend could pull out their apartment key. Just as Tommy was starting to think that they were going to get away with sneaking homeless bastard into their apartment with no issues, the apartment door across from them opened, a low creak signifying their company. Tommy breathed out, frustrated, biting his lip slightly as he glanced over. It was their elderly neighbor. She really was a sweet old person, much nicer than her grumpy husband who cursed Tommy and Tubbo out whenever they spoke even slightly above an average volume, which was often. Still, sweet or not, she had definitely picked up that something was going on, and that just wouldn’t do.    
  
Before Tommy could say anything loud or abrasive, Tubbo stepped forward, resting a hand lightly on Tommy’s arm. “Good afternoon, Ma’am,” he spoke, smiling. He was doing his best to act as normal as possible, but Tommy could feel the slight tremble in his hand, from where it was pressed against his arm. “Sorry if we woke you up - our friend here passed out drunk, and we had to go pick him up.”   
  
Using Tommy’s excuse, then? Tommy made sure not to turn all the way around, not allowing the injury to become visible to her. “Oh, it’s no problem, dear,” the old woman replied, voice just as sweet as ever, and still gently concerned. “Is your friend okay?”   
  
“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Tommy jumped into the conversation, grinning, trying to smile as normally as he could. “He’s just being an idiot lately - his girlfriend broke up with him, yeah? Angsty bastard.” Shifting his foot forwards, Tommy kicked their door open. Tubbo had already unlocked it and opened it slightly before they were interrupted, so it swung open easily from the pressure. “I’m going to go get him laid down, yeah?” Not waiting for a reply he quickly stepped in, stumbling slightly with the weight on his shoulder, now that he was carrying homeless bastard alone.   
  
He could hear Tubbo and the old woman still talking in the hallway, as he managed to get homeless bastard to the couch, dropping him on it as gently as possible. To be fair, as gently as possible didn’t end up being all that gentle, but he tried his best to lower him before he sort of just flopped onto the couch. After that, he quickly repositioned him, making sure his head and all his limbs were on the couch, not hanging off the edges. 

He noticed some sort of satchel around his body as well, hanging off of one shoulder and pressing into the stranger's side. Tommy didn’t hesitate to remove it from him and place it aside. He didn’t want anything to spill out or break, and in all honesty, he was planning on digging through it later.

Stretching the slight ache out of his shoulder, Tommy headed towards the kitchen, glancing into the front hall just as Tubbo was closing the door. “That could have gone better,” Tommy complained, losing sight of Tubbo as he made it to the kitchen, quickly starting his search for their first aid kit. The kitchen was a bit of a mess, as you could expect from two teenage boys living together. A few take-out dishes and plates and bowls were scattered over the room, and the entire thing could use a good wipe.    
  
“It could have gone worse,” Tubbo commented, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Check under the sink, I think it should be there.”   
  
Tommy crouched down, pulling the cupboard under the sink open. Tubbo was right after all, and he grabbed the kit, straightening with a small noise of victory. Turning just in time to see Tubbo roll his eyes at him, Tommy stuck his tongue out at his best friend, already heading back towards the living room with Tubbo on his heels. “Alright, let’s get homeless bastard fixed up, and then hopefully he’ll wake soon,” Tommy declared, rounding the couch. He knelt down, opening the first aid kit, and Tubbo knelt next to him, willing to help figure this out.   
  
“Homeless bastard?” Tubbo repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s his name.” Clearly. 

Tommy pulled out a pair of scissors and handed them over to Tubbo, who accepted them reluctantly. “Do you want to try to cut the shirt off around the injury? I’m going to wash my hands before I touch any of this shit,” Tommy explained, standing back up to head towards the kitchen again. Tubbo didn’t reply, but Tommy could hear the gentle snipping of the scissors through the fabric. He made sure to wash his hands well, not wanting to make things worse or get homeless bastards wound infected, before returning.   
  
Tubbo had managed to get the fabric away and off the injury, revealing a deep slash in homeless bastards' flesh. It looked like some sort of blade had cut into him, the cut smooth around the edges and longer than Tommy had imagined it would be. A knife wound, maybe? It wasn’t bleeding too badly anymore, but Tommy grabbed some clean gauze and applied pressure anyways, soaking up some still oozing blood for a minute. He was good with first aid and knew what to do in these types of situations, a skill that was proving useful. He couldn’t exactly remember when he had first aid training, but he figured it was likely at some point when he was younger. It seemed like something his parents would have pushed him into.   
  
After he was sure the wound wasn’t bleeding, Tommy peeled the bloody gauze away. He returned to the kitchen to grab a soft kitchen cloth soaked with water and returned to start wiping away the blood from the skin around the wound. It took a few trips back and forth before homeless bastard started to look a lot cleaner, but Tommy was satisfied with the progress made. 

Tubbo was mostly quiet as Tommy worked, and leaned forwards slightly so he could see better. “It looks pretty fresh,” Tubbo commented, and Tommy nodded in agreement.   
  
“At least it doesn’t look infected? I cleaned it up as much as I can, and it’s not bleeding, so I think we should just wrap it up now,” Tommy decided, suddenly unsure. Was he missing any steps? He didn’t want to poke around the wound too much and potentially hurt homeless bastard more, as he had already decided, but he didn’t want to leave it like this and have the man sick with fever and infection in a few hours.

He didn’t voice his thoughts out loud. If Tubbo saw Tommy nervous, he would start getting nervous, and then he would insist on calling an ambulance again, which still felt like a bad idea. 

Tommy did end up putting some of the anti-bacterial cream they had on the injury before wrapping it up with a bandage. The bandage wasn’t hard to apply, it went on easily without any issues, Tommy easily making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose. After that, all he could do was put the kit away and wash his hands again, making sure there was no blood staining his skin.   
  
Heading back to the living room again, Tommy joined Tubbo in looking down at the stranger. It felt like he should wake up now that they were finished, but he remained just as still and quiet as he had been the entire time they were working on his injury. As another moment passed by, Tommy sighed, pushing his weight back on his heels slightly and glancing over at Tubbo. 

“He has some sort of bag on him,” Tommy pointed out, gesturing towards the satchel, “I think we should look through it. At least then we can figure out if he might actually be dangerous or not, yeah?”   
  
Tubbo didn’t argue about looking through an injured, unconscious person's stuff, luckily, just nodded. Tommy supposed in this situation, he could see that they didn’t have much choice in the matter. Tommy grabbed the satchel from where he had left it, picking it up by the strap. They moved away from the couch and sat down at the kitchen table, the bag placed in between the pair. After examining it for a moment, Tommy made the first move, reaching forwards to open the top.   
  
He didn’t want to just dump the entire thing out, in case anything was breakable, so he reached into it carefully and pulled out something round. Looking at the object in his hand, Tommy frowned, having no idea what it could be. It was smooth, and a greenish-blue color, not overly large but fitting in the palm of Tommy’s hand. “I have no idea what this is,” he admitted, passing it across the table towards Tubbo.    
  
Tubbo picked it up, twisting it this way and that, before shrugging at Tommy. Clearly, he had no idea what it was either.    
  
They continued to pull more items from the bag, making a small pile on the table. There were more of the round greenish-blue circles, which he set carefully down, making sure they weren’t going to roll away. Then, there were several vials with different colored liquids in them. The liquid in the vials tended to be some shade of pink or purple, and the liquid glistened slightly, almost glowing.    
  
“Are these drugs?” Tubbo questioned in a low hiss, raising one to his eyes. He was looking more alarmed by the minute, and the idea that looking through homeless bastards' bag might reassure them seemed less and less likely.   
  
Tommy snorted, shaking his head no hesitantly. “I don’t think so? I’ve seen drugs before, Tubbo, and they don’t look like anything I’ve fucking seen. Careful not to break the glass.” It seemed like not dumping everything out had been a good idea.   
  
The food was normal, at least, if not a normal color. There were some weird carrots that looked almost yellow or gold, as well as some apples that had the same weird glowing effect as the liquid in the vials did. There was also some packaged meat, which did look entirely normal. The meat was even a recognizable kind, clearly being some type of beef. 

There was nothing else that really drew his attention. There was a small chest, held closed by a golden clasp, dark green or dark blue. But it couldn’t be opened, and it wasn’t big enough to be holding anything overly awful. Well, it could actually contain drugs or maybe a severed hand or something, but Tommy would prefer to hope it didn’t.   
  
They returned everything from where they got it from, placing the bag back next to the stranger. Finally, Tommy couldn’t help but wonder what he had really gotten himself into.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, updates will NOT normally be this quick! I was just motivated to get something more out than just that short first chapter. Thank you so much for the comments and support so far! I haven't had a chance to reply to anyone yet, but I'm going to go and do that as soon as this chapter has been posted. Also, please keep an eye on the tags! I'm going to be updating them pretty often, and I don't want anyone to get triggered by anything. Feel free to message me to check for any specific triggers, if you need to.
> 
> What do you think of this chapter length? Good? Shorter? Longer? Let me know! :3
> 
> Coming soon: Wilbur wakes up, a confusing conversation takes place, and Tubbo tries to convince Tommy to make a decision.


	3. All my money been a long time spent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tommy, you need to listen to me. When you found me in the alleyway, was anyone else around?”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> Wilbur took a step forward, meeting Tommy half-way across the room. His hands shot out, grabbing Tommy’s shoulders, and the younger male half-flinched back. “Was there anyone else in the alleyway? A man with pink hair and a crown? Or another man with blonde hair and a green and white striped hat? And-”
> 
> “Let go of him!”
> 
> \--
> 
> Wilbur wakes up, a confusing conversation takes place, and Tubbo tries to convince Tommy to make a decision.

There was an ache all along his shoulders and especially focused on his neck. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. Tommy fell asleep in weird places every once in a while, and waking up with aches and pains wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. It never made it less annoying, though. Distantly, he could hear someone moving around the kitchen.   
  
Grimacing, Tommy sat up slowly, rolling his head around to try to ease some of the neck pain as he rubbed at his eyes. Opening them a moment later, he found that he had fallen asleep at the small table in the living room, homework spread around in front of him. He could distantly remember dragging his homework out here last night, side by side with Tubbo, but he couldn’t remember falling asleep.   
  
“Tubbo?” he questioned, looking up. There was no reply, but a moment later, Tommy noticed Tubbo still seated next to him. Well, less seated and more half laying on the table, face pressed into the crook of his elbow as he dozed off.    
  
The memories from the night suddenly sprung to the front of his mind, and Tommy’s eyes widened as he realized who it was that was actually in the kitchen. Suddenly much more awake then he was a moment ago, Tommy grabbed Tubbo’s elbow, shaking him awake. Groaning, Tubbo shifted, one hand raising up to shove Tommy’s grasp away as he too straightened, an annoyed grimace on his face. No doubt he was going through the same aches that Tommy was.    
  
“Tommy?” he muttered, running an arm over the side of his face as he yawned slightly.   
  
“Homeless bastard is awake,” Tommy replied in a whispered hiss.   
  
For a second Tubbo stared at him blankly before his eyes widened slightly as well, as the memories from the night before seemed to settle. He quickly looked in the direction of the kitchen after a second, where the slightest noise was audible, but neither of them could see the interior of the room from where they were seated. They were quiet for another second, exchanging a glance.   
  
Tommy was never one to hesitate, however. Without any more communication, he quickly got to his feet, hightailing it into the kitchen. Tubbo startled for a moment before scrambling upwards onto his own feet and following quickly after his friend.    
  
Homeless bastard, as Tommy named him, was definitely awake. He was leaning slightly against the counter by the tiny, cramped kitchen window, leaning forwards and squinting out of it, looking outside. As a result, his back was towards them, giving them a second to look him over. His long coat was gone, taken off and left on the couch, leaving him in just his blood-stained shirt. He seemed a lot more steady than the night before. He was leaning against the counter still, but he wasn’t shaking or trembling, and his grip on the edge of the counter was tight.   
  
He had also stolen their food, it appeared. A loaf of bread was open on the counter and homeless bastard held a slice in his hand, running his fingers over it and getting bread crumbs all over the counter. He hadn’t taken a bite.   
  
Tommy stepped forwards, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes slightly. “We let you into our place and the first thing you do is take our food?” he questioned, tilting his chin up into the air slightly. “What the fuck?”   
  
The man tensed, shoulders noticeably rising. Slowly, he turned, head tilting slightly to the side. His eyes brushed past Tubbo as if Tubbo wasn’t even there, but stopped and locked on Tommy. It wasn’t as intent as it had been the night before. There was no strange relief in his eyes, and he didn’t immediately fall to the ground unconscious, for starters. However, there was definitely something strange in the way he looked at Tommy. Just a little too intent, a little bit too harsh. “Tommy,” he said under his breath, as though to himself. Then he spoke up, louder, speaking to them without a doubt. “I wasn’t stealing anything, I have my own supplies with me. The food here is just weird. Did you go through my things?”   
  
Some of the sharpness left Tommy’s pose. Despite how tough he was trying to appear, the words being said only confused him. Homeless bastard didn’t seem to mind being called a thief, had hardly even reacted to the accusation, and was still talking to Tommy in such a relaxed way despite the circumstances of their meeting. “We were only trying to check if you had any weapons on you,” Tubbo spoke up, sounding slightly nervous. “We wanted to help you, but we couldn’t just let you inside if you seemed dangerous.”   
  
The man looked at Tubbo now, frowning. “I had my sword before, but…” he trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “Seemed dangerous? We’re on the same side, Tubbo, aren’t we?” His words sharpened at the end, and he shifted his weight. The bread was tossed aside on the counter and he started to take a step forward. Without thinking Tommy quickly stepped between him and Tubbo, instinctively protecting his friend.   
  
“What the fuck do you mean, on the same side? And how do you know our names? Just because we let you in our house doesn’t mean we’re on the same side, I don’t know how you got that idea in your head,” Tommy snapped, scowling, “fucking pussy. What do you mean sword? An actual sword?”   
  
When Tommy moved between Tubbo and the stranger, the stranger had stopped stepping forwards. The lack of movement didn’t make Tommy feel any more secure, somehow. The man's gaze remained piercing, and it felt like he was peering into Tommy’s very soul, dissecting him and learning exactly what made him tick. Exactly what each of his weak points was.    
  
There was a long instance of silence, and the piercing expression faded into one of confusion. Tommy thought he even looked concerned for a second, but that flash of emotion was gone before he could know for sure. “What are you talking about?” the stranger finally asked, leaning back against the counter again. He raised his hands in front of him as if showing off that he was harmless, and despite himself, it did make Tommy relax some.   
  
“What are we talking about? What are you talking about? You’re making no sense, and you still haven’t explained how you know us, and I’m not going to fucking ask again.”    
  
There was a beanie on the man's head. It hadn’t been there before, so it must have been in one of the man's coat pockets, or maybe in some section of his bag they hadn’t checked, but as the man ran his hand roughly through his hair the beanie was torn off, held tightly between homeless bastards hands. “All of us are clearly confused,” he said, slowly, “so maybe we should start over from the beginning. I’m Wilbur. Wilbur Soot.”   
  
Wilbur Soot (though, personally, Tommy thought homeless bastard suited him much better) watched him as if Tommy should be reacting to the name in some manner. Tommy didn’t flinch, raising an eyebrow as Wilbur kept waiting for a response. “... I’m not hearing much of an explanation, Wilbur Soot.”   
  
Tubbo stepped out from behind Tommy, smiling hesitantly. “Why don’t we all sit down…?” he offered, gesturing towards the table. “Then we can get things straightened out, and Wilbur here can get whatever help he needs, okay?”   
  
Tommy and Wilbur both ignored him. “Why don’t you go first?” Wilbur suggested. The beanie was pulled back over his head again, and Wilbur reached down, pulling his shirt up slightly to show off his bandaged injury. “I know you bandaged this up, I can recognize your work, Tommy. What is this place?” Wilbur gestured out the window. “How big is this server? How many people are here?”   
  
His work? Server? Tommy took a deep breath. “I was heading back home last night, and I heard something in the alleyway, and I headed in just in time to see you collapse,” he finally said. He wouldn’t normally give in, but he had some hopes that if he explained how Wilbur got here, the man might stop spewing nonsense and decide to actually make sense. “I’m not a heartless bitch so I called Tubbo and brought you back here in order to bandage you up. I also wanted to know how the fuck you knew my name since I can’t remember seeing you around anywhere. Are you from the same college as me?”   
  
Wilbur’s gaze shifted up and down Tommy as if examining him carefully. He was weighing every single word before speaking, taking in a deep, careful breath. “You really have no idea who I am?”   
  
“No! I just said I’ve never seen you in my life, how many more fucking times do you need me to repeat it?” This time, Tommy was the one who took a step forward, closer towards Wilbur. “All you’ve done is tell me your name! Fess up and tell me how you know us, and what this shit about a sword is, and how you got hurt! And what the fuck do you mean by server?” He gestured out the window. “We’re in Nottingham, bitch.”   
  
“Nottingham…” Wilbur turned to look out the window, eyes a little wider than before. For a second, he looked almost lost, shadows passing over his face, and something twanged in Tommy’s chest. When Wilbur looked back at him, his expression was just as cold as before though, and Tommy was left wondering if he had imagined it once more. “Tommy, you need to listen to me. When you found me in the alleyway, was anyone else around?”   
  
“What?”    
  
Wilbur took a step forward, meeting Tommy half-way across the room. His hands shot out, grabbing Tommy’s shoulders, and the younger male half-flinched back. “Was there anyone else in the alleyway? A man with pink hair and a crown? Or another man with blonde hair and a green and white striped hat? And-”   
  
“Let go of him!” Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s arm, dragging him back and out of Wilbur’s grasp, which had quickly been turning tight and borderline painful. Tubbo was glaring now, being the one to step partially between Tommy and Wilbur. “You can’t just grab onto people like that, especially after we let you into our own home. Tommy didn’t see anyone else in that place, especially not someone with pink hair or an awful sense of acceptable fashion!”   
  
“Are you sure? Are you completely certain?” Wilbur snapped. He was raising his voice louder, and he glanced between Tubbo and Tommy quickly, as if trying to pick out any lies the pair might tell him, dissecting them further.   
  
Tommy nodded, finding his voice. “You were the only one there. Are those the people who attacked you?”   
  
“If you can provide a description, we can call the police,” Tubbo added, his voice softening slightly from his angry tone. “They can help you. You need help.” From Tubbo’s words, Tommy could tell his friend had decided that Wilbur was mentally unstable, and Tommy couldn’t entirely blame him for it. With the words he was using and his refusal to explain anything, Wilbur definitely wasn’t coming off as anything close to stable.   
  
“Police-? Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” Wilbur started pacing, eyes wide, staring forward. “We didn’t end up in the same place…? I shouldn’t be too surprised, what with that fucking interruption, but now they could be anywhere, and this place is huge!” He gestured out the window sharply, turning on his heel to stalk back over by it. “How do you find anyone on this server? My communicator isn’t even working!”   
  
Tubbo tugged lightly on Tommy’s sleeve. When Tommy glanced over at him, his friend nodded his head backward, out of the kitchen, clearly wanting a private word with him. With another glance at Wilbur, Tommy nodded, and the two carefully backed out of the kitchen. As soon as they were further away from Wilbur, Tubbo turned close to him, voice lowered into a whisper. “Tommy, I agreed to bring him in here, but we said if he was unstable we would call for help,” he said quickly, frowning. “He’s clearly unstable! He doesn’t even realize he’s in Nottingham, and he’s talking about swords and weird people… what if he’s from like, the mafia or something?”   
  
“He’s not from the mafia, Tubbo, don’t be stupid,” Tommy rolled his eyes slightly. He couldn’t deny the rest as easily, but -   
  
The flicker of concern in Wilbur’s gaze, the way he looked so lost for a moment when he looked out the window. He had no idea where he was, and didn’t seem to know how to get around, either. He had already been hurt. He was a stranger, and Tommy knew he shouldn’t care. Even if he did, getting him to a hospital should be helping him as much as possible, but still, despite all of that…   
  
Just like the night before, it felt like an awful idea. Tommy simply knew, with certainty, that if they brought Wilbur to the hospital, not only would the older male fight them the entire way, but something bad would happen because of it. He wished his instincts would be a little more clear on what 'something bad' actually was, so he could explain it to Tubbo in a way that made sense.    
  
Tommy glanced towards the kitchen again. Wilbur had noticed that the two of them had backed out and been whispering to each other, but he seemed fine with it, looking out the window for another long moment before heading over to dig around in his bag. After a second, Tommy looked back at Tubbo. “Look, I know he seems like a wanker. Something is clearly fucked in his head, but he still knows us somehow. It feels wrong to just turn him away and send him off before we even figure out what’s going on.”   
  
Tubbo was already shaking his head, looking distressed. “I know how you feel, but we need to think about what’s best for him as well, Tommy.”   
  
“Sending him away with a bunch of strangers?”   
  
“We’re strangers as well.” The reminder was delivered gently, but Tommy flinched ever so slightly, hardly even noticeable. That wasn’t true, Wilbur knew them from somewhere. The demand to know if Tommy didn’t recognize him and the resulting reaction hadn’t felt fake, either. Did they really meet before? Did Tommy really forget? Wilbur Soot didn’t seem like a person who was easy to forget.   
  
There was a loud curse from the kitchen, and both of the teenagers turned quickly. Wilbur had set the weird green blue box on the counter and was trying to open it. Just like the night before, it stayed tightly shut. “It’s locked,” Tommy called out, stepping into the kitchen again and ignoring Tubbo’s attempt to grab his arm and stop him. Tubbo wanted to finish their conversation, which Tommy was trying to avoid. “We tried opening it last night, but -”   
  
“It’s an ender chest, it’s not locked, it’s… broken,” Wilbur interrupted, words snapped out and harsh. “It doesn’t work on this server, just like the communicator. I hardly have anything in my bag, which means I don’t have a single weapon, or any armor, or any of my supplies.”   
  
Tommy and Tubbo stared at the chest, which was supposedly called an ender chest. It definitely wasn’t big enough to fit anything like armour, or a sword. … It was probably for the best that Wilbur didn’t have any weapons. “What’s all the other stuff in the bag?” Tubbo questioned. “We need some kind of explanation from you, and then we’ll take you to the hospital.” He seemed like he was trying to compromise with Tommy. He knew Tommy wanted to know more, but Tubbo was set on getting Wilbur help.   
  
“Hospital?” Wilbur repeated. He tore his gaze away from the ender chest to stare at them again. “Why do you want to go to a hospital? Are either of you hurt?”    
  
“You’re hurt.” Once again, Tubbo’s voice had turned ever so slightly gentle.   
  
Wilbur pressed one of his hands against his bandages, and shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly. “This..? Didn’t you watch Tommy bandage it up, Tubbo? If it gets infected, I can take a healing potion, though I would prefer not to waste any of my supplies unless I absolutely need to. We likely won’t be able to get any more, if this server can’t even access our ender chests.”   
  
Potion? Tommy applied the words to the shiny bottles filled with liquids that they had found last night, in Wilbur’s things. The items did look a little bit like potions, the ones that all those magical characters would have in fantasy stories. Tommy remembered how Tubbo had questioned them, wondering if they could be drugs, but now they were something that Wilbur was calling potions. “What about the circle things? What are those?” Tommy interrupted before Tubbo could try to further his hospital idea. Tubbo cast him a frustrated glance.   
  
“Ender pearls,” Wilbur explained, pulling one out of his bag and holding it up. “They drop from enderman, half of the time. I have a stack.”   
  
Enderman? Every time they tried to get Wilbur to explain something, things just ended up being more confusing than before. Before Tommy could ask a million more questions, Tubbo grabbed onto his arm again. From the expression on his face, which Tommy could easily read after so many years of practice, Tubbo was really getting fed up. “Tommy,” he spoke up, voice louder, “Wilbur. What about this. Let’s sit down, and we can take turns asking questions. Full explanations, and then we can understand what’s going on, okay?” Last time he tried to convince them to take a seat, he’d been ignored, but this time his voice was sharp and his eyes were slightly narrowed, refusing to take no for an answer, and the idea…   
  
Well, it made sense. Tommy nodded, glancing at Wilbur. Luckily, Wilbur nodded as well, agreeing. As Tommy and Tubbo sat down next to each other, Wilbur replaced his items in his bag. He grabbed his coat, pulling it back on, and sat across from the duo, arms crossed over his chest. “How big is this server?” Wilbur questioned. It sounded less like a question and more of a demand.   
  
“What’s a server?” Tommy shot back instantly, straightening. Tubbo sighed, leaning back slightly, knowing his friend was stubborn and loud enough to be able to handle this conversation and Wilbur’s attitude.   
  
Wilbur’s eyebrows drew together slightly, and he tapped his fingers against his arm. “A server is different sets of… the easiest way to explain it would be different sets of land,” he explained slowly. “Generally owned by someone. Dream SMP. SMP Earth.”   
  
“Are you talking about, like, countries? Cities?”   
  
“No.” Wilbur shook his head. “There can be countries and cities within a server, like when Phil and Techno created the Antarctic Empire in SMP Earth, or when we-” he cut himself off suddenly, his eyes darkening slightly. His fingers stalled in their tapping motion, and he dug them harshly into his arms, his coat wrinkling. “It’s two entirely separate concepts.” He didn’t finish his thought, but Tommy brushed past that.   
  
He still did scowl though, straightening further. “It sounds more like you mean the fucking planet itself, dumbass. But you already mentioned Earth.”   
  
That caught Wilbur’s attention, as he startled. The shadowed look in his eyes faded as he was distracted from the conversation. “We’re on SMP Earth?” he demanded, surprised.   
  
Tommy shook his head. “I’ve never heard anyone call it that, that’s fucking dense. The population of Earth is like… I don’t know, seven billion? Eight billion?” He was trying to answer Wilbur’s earlier question now when he asked how many people were on this 'server.’ “Nottingham has about three hundred thousand, I think. Probably more.” He glanced at Tubbo, who shrugged and then nodded hesitantly. It seemed about right, though as Tommy said, it probably wasn’t spot on.

Wilbur was staring again, though. His expression was carefully blank, a mask drawn over his expression. Other than those small moments when Wilbur seemed to slip up and that dark look appeared in his eyes, words becoming more frantic, he seemed to be a generally intelligent person with a good handle over his own emotions. He also spoke well, his words all carefully chosen, handing over the information he was willing to part with and nothing more.    
  
“How can I track two specific people down on a server this big?” he finally said. His fingers were digging into his arms again. “Without a communicator?”    
  
Tommy and Tubbo glanced at each other for what felt like the hundredth time, frowning. “Well, if you don’t have a… phone…” That’s likely what the communicator actually was, right? “It could be hard. Don’t you know where they live? Or where they might have gone?” Tommy questioned.   
  
“We don’t live on this server,” Wilbur snapped, leaning back. “Otherwise I wouldn’t need to ask you so much about how many people are on this server, and which server it even is. Use your brain, Tommy.” He uncrossed one of his arms to run it through the front part of his hair again. A nervous habit, maybe? “Do you know if-”   
  
“Hold on, I think it’s our turn to ask a question,” Tommy raised his hand, cutting Wilbur off, looking annoyed and pissed off now. He didn’t enjoy Wilbur treating him like he was stupid, especially when Wilbur was the one making hardly any real sense. “How did you get all sliced up? Did you and your friends get attacked?”    
  
He didn’t seem pleased at being cut off, but Wilbur nodded. “When we were on our way here, we got interrupted. Crossing servers isn’t normally that difficult, but this place… well, you’ve made it clear yourself, it doesn’t seem like it’s even a real server. Servers can’t hold millions of people, which means this is something else. I was injured, and we had to rush things along, which must have caused us to get separated. Crossing between a server and whatever this is requires time and precision, which we didn’t have the opportunity to focus on. Chances are, Phil and Techno should both be in this Nottingham, which is the good news. We were trying to get to you, so I can only hope they weren’t cast away too far.”   
  


So Wilbur had come to Nottingham with two other people, called Phil and Techno, trying to get here quickly to find Tommy of all people. They were attacked on their way, which caused them to all end up separated. Wilbur needed to find them again, but it was proving difficult since his phone wasn’t working and he had no idea where they could be, and Nottingham wasn’t a small place.   
  
It made sense, except where it didn’t. Tommy still had no idea why these three were trying to find him, and Wilbur was using terminology he’d never heard before, talking about these servers still, and seeming shocked at the number of people on Earth and in Nottingham. The items still made no sense, the ender chest, potions, and ender pearls, the mention of enderman. It was as though wherever Wilbur had come from, it really wasn’t on Earth.   
  
As though Wilbur were an alien or some sort of demon or creature from a different dimension.    
  
You know, those things that exist in pretend, in stories, and on the television. Not anything that was real. Which meant, no matter how reluctant Tommy was to admit it, no matter how much he still felt like it was the wrong idea -   
  
Tubbo was right. Something was wrong with Wilbur, and he needed medical help and attention, even if that meant their mystery wouldn’t be solved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh. That stream yesterday, am I right? I watched it live, my first live Tommy stream (on my birthday and everything!). I honestly thought it must have been a mistake at first - and then the stream ended. I was just sitting there in shock, jfc.  
> .... T//T No spoilers in the comments please, for people who might not have seen it yet.
> 
> Wilbur is in a tricky spot right now, because he knows at this point if he starts trying to convince them he's related to Tommy + all about the magic and drama back in Dream SMP, it'll just further convince them he's insane. He can tell that Earth is a LOT different from what he's used to, so he doesn't want to say something that will drive them away from him.  
> However, refusing to answer their questions is just causing the same thing to happen, and he let too much slip (servers, potions, etc) before he really caught onto the situation, so he had to try and explain at least some of it, and... well it's just not going well for him at all.  
> I hate writing all this dialogue and trying to keep track of what the characters each know, so I hope it all made sense and wasn't boring to read through!
> 
> Coming soon: Tommy and Tubbo try to drop Wilbur off at the hospital, and it... really doesn't go as planned.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first Sleepy Bois Inc/Dream SMP fic! I'm pretty new to the fandom, so there may be some weird plot mistakes I make, and we'll just pretend that it's due to this being an AU lmao. I haven't written in a while, so I'm pretty excited and hopeful about this story. ALSO I'm Canadian so I'm awful with England school systems/slang/etc and I'm sorry in advance,
> 
> Please follow me on Instagram, LovestuckPrince! I really love drawing and creating my own characters which I post there, and I would love any support. <3  
> You can also find me on Tumblr at LovestuckPrince, feel free to send me asks about the story/bother me to update if it's taking me a while!
> 
> Please kudos, comment, and subscribe. <3


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